Telepath Blues
by Jesse Shearer
Summary: A man seeking to better himself finds that he is a telepath and begins an unusual life in Psicorp.
1. Default Chapter

Warp Power Studios and Theaters Presents: A Jesse M. Shearer Fanfic  
  
Telepath Blues A Babylon Five Story by Jesse Shearer  
  
Chapter One: Psychic Suspicions  
  
September, 2258 was supposed to be the month that Larry Solen's life turned around. He had entered Reshin Community College the previous fall and was finally getting down to his core studies. Larry was hoping this round of higher education would finally lead him to a life of his own, and all the evidence suggested that becoming a medical tecnitian was just the way to do that.  
Although Larry's course schedule that semester consisted of only two classes, it was as much as he could handle, between the homework and his job. The job wasn't much, but it paid for food and shelter with enough credits left over to pay tuition. In fact, it was through his job that Larry first began to suspect he was different from those around him.  
At work, Larry sometimes felt as though he knew what people would say next. This was hardly an indicator of psychic ability, as it could easily be dismissed as experience from working a cash register for several years. What made Larry think twice about it was that his ability to guess about certain things seemed to be increasing.  
Then there was the first night of Larry's keyboarding class. Larry was hardly a perfect typist. The truth was, he was one of the slowest in class. But this evening, his speed was down and he was having trouble concentrating. Partway through the class, Larry abruptly took his hands off his terminal keypad and put his head in them.  
"Is something wrong, Larry?" asked the instructor, Miss Alice Joanas.  
"I don't know, Miss Joanas," Larry replied. "I'm having trouble concentrating and I keep hearing this rushing noise, like there's a fan blowing on an open vent. It's really giving me a headache."  
"Well, like I said at the beginning of class," Joanas said, "feel free to go get something to drink or use the restroom if you need to. This is a fairly self-guided class."  
"Thanks, Miss Joanas," Larry said. "I think I'll take advantage of that."  
While he was taking his break in the school's student lounge, Larry saw an interesting sign and read it.  
"Are you having trouble concentrating?" the sign read. "Do you hear sounds or see things that others don't? Know things about people that you've just met? If you have these or other symptoms listed below, you may be a telepath. Contact your local Psicorp representative today for more information."  
Larry made note of the comlink number on the sign on a handy piece of paper before finishing his drink and going back to class.  
When Larry got home after class, he called his parents to make sure they were alright and then worked on some homework before going to bed for the night. Larry had been having trouble sleeping for a few days, but he wrote it off as fall allergies because the same thing had been happening every spring and fall for years. Tonight, however, it would be much worse.  
A few minutes after he closed his eyes in bed, Larry opened his eyes again to find himself fully dressed and standing in a dimly lit tunnel that looked a lot like a mainline sewer. He began walking, following some path that he wasn't consciously aware of. After a few minutes, Larry came to a brightly lit room with four men in it. Three were human, that much Larry knew. The fourth he didn't recognize.  
"We're glad you could make it," one of the humans, apparently the leader, said. "We have some very important business with you."  
"Like what?" Larry asked. "I have no idea who you even are."  
"Who we are is not the issue. Our business, however," the head human said, "requires you and you alone, Mr. Solen."  
"And what would that business be?" Larry asked, sounding equally nervous and annoyed.  
"My machine," the alien said.  
"What?" Larry asked.  
"His device requires a telepath," the lead human sad. "Or rather, a telekinetic, like you will become before you leave here."  
"What are you guys talking about?" Larry asked. "You're nuts. You can't just make a person a telepath. It's impossible."  
"Yes, yes it is," the lead human said, "but your suspicions about being a telepath are correct. The changes to make you a telekinetic are minor."  
"This is crazy. I'm getting out of here," Larry said, and then he turned to leave.  
"You're not leaving," the human said. Larry began to run, only to be chased by the two humans who hadn't spoken. He felt himself trip, only to awaken with a start back in his bed, which was now soaked with what Larry thought was sweat, and the whole room smelled of sewage.  
"What the hell?" Larry said to himself as he sat up. "Did that just happen?"  
Larry groggily got out of bed and went over to his dresser to look at the alarm clock he kept there. It read three thirty in the morning.  
"Damn, don't even have to be up for another two hours," Larry thought. "May as well get the sheets off the bed, at least."  
As Larry removed his wet sheets, he thought about the experience that had brought him where he was. Surely, he thought, it had been a nightmare, because most of what he had heard was gibberish. As he put the sheets in the wash load, he decided to tell his friends at work, even though the story sounded absurd. Then Larry went into his bathroom area to splash some water on his face and get some disinfecting spray for the mattress before he laid down on the floor and went to sleep for another two hours.  
During a slow period at work, Larry told his friends Jeff and Bill about his experience the night before while they waited for another batch of parts to come down the assembly line they worked on.  
"Aw, c'mon, Larry," Jeff said. "Just admit that you had a nightmare and wound up hosing the sheets."  
"Yeah," Bill agreed. "Most of that's just crazy talk. Sounds like you went out and had a few too many last night."  
"Eh, you're probably right," Larry finally agreed. "Got any plans for the weekend?"  
"Just taking the girlfriend to the movies," Bill said. "How bout you, Jeff?"  
"Pretty much the same," Jeff said. "Larry?"  
"Well, I got some time coming, so I thought I'd take a couple days and go to the Psycorp center on Mars," Larry said.  
"Why you wanna do that?" Bill asked.  
"Well, I saw this sign at school yesterday. Listed a lot of things that have been going on in my head," Larry explained. "Besides, it beats hanging around the apartment all weekend."  
"Yeah, I suppose you're right," Jeff said as the conveyor in front of them began moving. All three looked down to where their work came from.  
"Aw, damn," Bill cursed. "Another H-67."  
"I really hate those things," Larry agreed before they went to work. 


	2. Calling Psicorps

Telepath Blues A Babylon 5 Story By Jesse Shearer  
  
Chapter 2: Calling Psicorps  
  
The first of Larry Solen's days off was a Saturday. Saturdays usually meant that Larry could sleep in until about nine in the morning before getting up to catch his favorite weekend programming. This Saturday, however, he was up an hour early, intending to use the commlink number he'd gotten at school two days before.  
Before Larry made his call, he made himself some pancakes for breakfast, which was his usual for the day. About a half hour later, Larry placed his call to the Psicorps office. The person he got ahold of was a woman not much older than he was.  
"Psycorps Regional Office, this is Sally Josephs," the woman introduced herself. "How may I help you?"  
"Yeah, I saw your ad at Reshin Community College the other day," Larry said. "I think I'm experiencing some of the symptoms listed."  
"OK," Josephs said. "Give me your name and tell me what you've been experiencing."  
"My name is Larry Solen," he said. "What I've been experiencing is that I hear the wind in windowless, unventilated rooms; severe headaches that I can't explain; and I've had a lot of experiences with guessing what a person is going to ask even before they show up where I can see them."  
"Are there any other symptoms, Mr. Solen?" Josephs asked.  
"Well, there's this nightmare I have every so often where I'm in a dark tunnel of some sort, and I hear lots of voices, most of which I can't make out."  
"When was the last time you had this dream?" Josephs asked.  
"Couple nights ago," Larry answered. "And it was more vivid than usual. I remember walking through the tunnel, which looked a lot like an old sewer, until I came to a brightly lit room with three humans and an alien in it. One of the humans said something about me being a telepath and that I was vital to some device the alien was building. I ran, and the last thing I remember before waking up was tripping on something."  
"We've heard of that one a few times before, Mr. Solen," Josephs said. "Could you come in sometime next week so we can talk in person?"  
"Yeah," Larry agreed. "I took Monday and Tuesday off from work specifically for this. When would be a good time?"  
"How about Monday morning at ten thirty?" Josephs asked.  
  
"Sounds good. Who do I ask for?" Larry asked.  
"Tell the person at the front desk that you have an appointment with Sally Josephs," she answered. "We're at 363 East Russell Avenue in Fallsburg. Do you know the way?"  
"It's about six blocks from my apartment," Larry answered. "I'll see you Monday morning."  
"See you then," Josephs said and closed the channel.  
Larry got up at his usual time Monday morning and got ready for his day, but instead of putting on his work uniform after his shower, he put on his best interview clothes about an hour and a half before he had to leave if he expected to get there on time, since he intended to walk.  
As Larry walked, he thought about all the things that he'd experienced or thought he experienced over the years. There were several times in his high school jobs that he'd known exactly what someone wanted just by looking at them from a few yards away. These things always seemed like they were coming from more than just experience. It had gotten him into trouble more than once, and there were days when it seemed like it would again. Larry realized that this feeling may have been why he was working in an aerospace factory instead of some other job with better pay and benefits.  
When Larry arrived, he was a few minutes early for his appointment, so he checked in with the receptionist and then took a seat in the lobby and started reading one of the pamphlets that had been placed on the table in front of the row of chairs. The one Larry chose caught his eye because the subject was people like him, who suspected they were telepaths but were unsure.  
"Interesting," Larry thought as he read. "Even if I only stand a one percent chance of being right about this, it'll be worth the time, like this says. Can't hurt to try."  
A moment later, the receptionist told Larry that Josephs was ready to see him.  
"Thanks," Larry said. "How long do these meetings usually take?"  
"It all depends," the receptionist answered. "Like that pamphlet you were reading said, only about one percent of people like you have any talents at all, so most are out in about an hour; but if you do indeed have telepathic ability, the length of the meeting depends on what level of talent you display."  
"Well then, here's to good luck, whatever that is," Larry said, as he went to find Josephs' office. 


	3. First Meeting

Telepath Blues A Babylon 5 Story by Jesse Shearer  
  
Chapter 3: First Meeting  
  
Larry had no trouble finding the office where he was supposed to meet Sally Josephs, the Psicorps representative he had spoken with over the weekend. He had to wait a few minutes once he entered the room, but it didn't bother him. In fact, Larry even appreciated the quiet. The room was quieter than even his apartment, which was almost silent itself. The interview room was small and windowless, and all it contained a small table with two chairs.  
"Sorry I'm late," Josephs said when she entered with a briefcase. "My last meeting took longer than expected."  
"Not a problem," Larry said. "I was just enjoying the quiet. In fact, I think this is the first time in I can't remember how long I've been completely without a headache."  
"Really?" Josephs asked. "Is it very bad most of the time?"  
"No, not particularly," Larry replied. "Most often it's just a feeling like I'm wearing a headband. But there are days when it gets a lot worse."  
"Could you describe worse for me?" Josephs asked.  
"It's like banging your head against that wall five or ten times quick," Larry explained as he pointed to a cinderblock wall. "Usually, it's when I'm around noisy people."  
"Define noisy," Josephs requested.  
"Well, I've been taking this keyboarding class at Reshin. It's been in session for about a month," Larry explained. "There's this one woman, I'd say about twenty years old, that just doesn't seem to get the simplest things the instructor tries to teach us. Basic memos, business letters, that sort of thing, but no matter how many times somebody explains this stuff, it just won't sink in. And by the time it's all over, my head feels like it's about to explode."  
"That could be stress, though," Josephs said. "Any other instances?"  
"Well, there was my part time job in high school," Larry said. "Flipping burgers, fairly typical stuff. Eventually, they had me learn to actually take orders. It took me about a week to learn to predict what people were going to order, even if I'd never seen them before."  
"That could be latent ability," Josephs said. "I'm going to ask you a few questions, just to see how you do."  
"Shoot," Larry replied.  
"I'm thinking of a number between one and ten," Josephs said, as she set her case on the table, where she opened it and removed a clipboard and pen.  
"Three," Larry guessed.  
"Correct," Josephs said. "Now, can you tell me what I had for breakfast?"  
"This morning?" Larry asked.  
"This morning," Josephs answered.  
"Ah, that would be a bowl of toasted wheat bran cereal, two slices of toast with grape jam, a glass of orange juice, and coffee," Larry said.  
"Two for two, Mr. Solen," Josephs said. "I'd say you do have some ability. It's probably not enough to get you past a P-2 rating, if that. And you've been scanning me, weather you're aware of it or not."  
"You're pulling my leg," Larry said. "Are you sure?"  
"Well, I'll have to get a few other opinions, but at this point, I'd say welcome to the one percent," Josephs said. "But before I do, tell me as much as you can about this dream you've been having. Include every detail."  
"OK," Larry agreed. "Last time I had it, the time I told you about over the link, I'd had a long night at class after a full day at work. And I'd just talked to my parents. Then I went to bed at about eleven. I don't think I'd been asleep for five minutes before it started.  
"In the dream, I was awake, fully dressed and walking down a tunnel or a pipe or something. After about five minutes, I came to this brightly lit room with four men in it. Three were human. The fourth was alien. From where, I don't know."  
"What did the alien look like?" Josephs asked.  
"I didn't really see him too clearly," Larry answered. "He was about my height, maybe a little heavier. Looked like he had dark skin and a white mask or exoskeleton on his head."  
"And what about the humans?" she asked.  
"All three were of average build," Larry said. "They looked like mob thugs from a bad movie from a couple hundred years ago. The one that spoke sounded like he came from around here."  
"Interesting," Josephs commented. "What did they say their business was?"  
"They said something about genetic manipulation so I could be a component of a telekinetic machine," Larry said. "That's the way I remember it, anyway."  
"That's certainly different from the other versions I've heard," Josephs told him. "I'd like to continue this, but I'm expected for lunch. Could you come back at one this afternoon?"  
"Sure," Larry said. "There's a place near here that I've been wanting to try for awhile now anyway."  
"See you then, Mr. Solen," Josephs said. "And be ready for a long afternoon."  
When Larry went back through the waiting room, it was about an hour later, and the receptionist was just about to go to lunch.  
"How'd it go?" the receptionist asked.  
"Well, P-2, if I'm lucky," Larry answered.  
"Congratulations," the receptionist said. "I hope you test well."  
"Thanks," Larry replied.  
Not long after, Larry was entering the little restaurant, called the Mag Diner. After he took a seat and studied the menu for a few minutes, a waiter came to take his order.  
"I guess I'll try the hamburger steak platter with the salad and the tea," Larry said.  
"Any dressing for the salad?" the waiter asked.  
"The French sounds good," Larry said.  
"Very good, sir," the waiter replied.  
"Hey, don't I know you from someplace?" Larry asked.  
"I think not, sir," the waiter said. "I think we'd remember each other."  
"Eh, you're probably right," Larry said. "But you do seem familiar."  
"Well, thank you, sir," the waiter said. "I'll be back shortly with your meal."  
A few moments later, Larry's meal arrived. As he ate, he realized that the waiter looked exactly like the speaking man in the dream. When Larry finished his meal, the waiter returned with the bill for the meal.  
"Did you enjoy the meal, sir?" the waiter asked.  
"Very much so," Larry answered. "I've seen this place a few times and have been meaning to try it."  
"We appreciate the business," the waiter thanked Larry. "Would you care for some dessert?"  
"No, thanks," Larry replied.  
"Here is your bill, sir," the waiter said. "Someone will help you at the counter when you're ready."  
After the waiter had left, Larry turned over his bill to see how much he owed and saw a note below the total.  
"We are watching you. You were not meant for the Psicorp. Do not return to them," the note read. 


	4. Notes from Noon Meals

Telepath Blues  
  
A Babylon 5 story by Jesse Shearer  
  
Chapter 4: Notes from Noon Meals  
  
When Larry returned to the Psicorps office, he had a few minutes to spare. After a few minutes, Sally Josephs approached him in the lobby and guided him into a back office.  
"I hope you weren't waiting too long," Josephs said. "Did you enjoy your lunch?"  
"It was alright," Larry replied as they walked through a long corridor. "I hope yours was good."  
"The Corps provides well for its own," Josephs said. "You sound like your experience could have been better, though."  
"The food was great, but the service was a bit off," Larry explained. "I thought I recognized the waiter, and then the bill came."  
"I'm sorry, Mr. Solen, but we can't reimburse you," Josephs replied.  
"I hardly expect that," Larry said. "After all, for the number of guys like me that must come through here, the Corps would be broke in a week. It's the note I found on the bottom of the ticket."  
"Really?" Josephs asked. "May I see it?"  
"Sure," Larry said as he took his lunch receipt from his pocket and handed it to Josephs.  
"I'm going to run this down to our forensics lab for examination," Josephs said. "Just go to the next room on the right and someone will be with you shortly."  
When Larry found his door, he found that it lead to a small screening room with seating for about ten. Each seat had a folding leaf attached for use as a writing surface, apparently for use as a class or testing room. Larry took a seat towards the middle of the room and relaxed for a few minutes before a younger man entered.  
"Larry Solen? Bill Reiner," the man said as he approached and extended a gloved hand. "I'm Sally's assistant. She sent me to start the introductory vids and the paperwork while she dealt with that message you gave her."  
"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir," Larry said, returning the handshake. "I'm looking forward to getting to know about all this."  
"Usually, we give new initiates more testing before they make it this far, but since you received an actual threat and based upon the details you gave us, it would be better if we just skipped ahead to this," Reiner explained.  
"Makes sense," Larry agreed. "Even if I wasn't joining the Corps, I don't think I'd want to just be running around out there. Between the guys tracking me and the other folks out there, I'd go nuts."  
"That's one reason we're here," Reiner assured him. "I'd better get the first vid started. I'll be back with some paperwork once it's done."  
"OK," Larry acknowleged before he returned to his seat as Reiner left. A moment later, the lights dimmed and the projector started.  
"If you are seeing this program, you are amongst the one percent of walk-ins to Psicorps that possess telepathic abilities," the person on the screen said. "Welcome." 


	5. First Tests

Telepath Blues

A Babylon 5 story by Jesse Shearer

Chapter 5: First Tests

Once the vids were complete, Larry was directed to a room similar to the one in which he'd had his initial meeting with Josephs. After a few moments of waiting, Bill Reiner entered with an attaché case and sat down across the table from Larry.

"Hope you weren't waiting too long," Reiner commented.

"Hardly," Larry replied. "The vids were certainly interesting. What's next?"

"Well, we're going to start with some tests to help pin down your talent level a little better," Reiner explained. "Normally, this would have come before the material you just watched, but given your circumstances, things are being sped along."

"This should be interesting," Larry said. "The vids did seem to rely on this having come beforehand."

"Speaking of vids," Reiner said as he remotely activated a system of hovering video recorders, "I'm required to inform you that this proceeding will be recorded for legal purposes and other Corps-specific reasons. Do you consent?"

"By all means," Larry agreed.

For a little more than thirty minutes, Reiner and Larry worked to determine the newcomer's initial level. After all the basic tests were completed, Reiner suggested one that was just for fun.

"Well, it looks like Miss Josephs was pretty close when she said P-2, tops," Reiner said. "You seem to rate right in the middle of range 2."

"What does that mean?" Larry asked.

"Basically, your talents are sufficient for low-level commercial and investigation work," Reiner explained. "It's always interesting work, especially if you wind up assisting the Psi Cops."

"That sounds like it would be," Larry agreed. "Are there any other things we should work on here?"

"Well, there is a simple telekinetics test we do," Reiner suggested, "and it would seem to make sense in your case."

"Okay," Larry agreed.

"Move the coin across the table without using your hands," Reiner instructed his subject as he put a small copper coin on the table. Larry looked at the piece and thought about moving it to his left, which happened easily and smoothly.

"How was that?" Larry asked when the coin had stopped.

"Very probably the best I've ever seen," Reiner replied. "Certainly one of the rarer outcomes."

"Let me guess," Larry commented. "This means I have to quit my factory job, doesn't it?"

"I'm afraid so, Larry, but we'll handle that," Reiner replied. "Now, let's expand on what you've shown me with the coin."

For another half-hour, Larry tested his newfound talent on various objects around the room, with help from Reiner. At one point, the table the men were sitting at was very nearly broken against the ceiling.

"Well, Mr. Solen, it looks like you've got some serious psycho-kinetic talent on your hands here," Reiner commented once the table had been returned to its proper position on the floor. "I'm going to go see if I can find our local telekinetics expert to give us a hand. Promise you won't smash the place up while I'm gone."

"You got it, man," Larry agreed with a chuckle. Reiner had been gone for barely a moment when another man entered with a pitcher of water and a glass on a tray.

"Mr. Reiner suggested that we bring you something to drink while he's out," the man said, pouring a glass for Larry.

"Well thank you," Larry replied. "I quite appreciate it."

"You're quite welcome," the man said as he turned and left.

"Must have one hell of a filter system around here," Larry thought as he finished off the water that had been poured for him and put some more in the glass. A moment later, he reached up to scratch his nose.

"Why do I have a nosebleed now?" Larry wondered, staring at the blood on his hand. As he contemplated the situation, the bleeding suddenly became worse.

"Shit," Larry cursed out loud, trying to control the situation. "Never a damned tissue around when you need one."

As Larry frantically searched for something to control the bleeding with, he passed out and landed face first on the floor.

Author's Note:

I apologize to anyone who has been waiting for additional chapters to this or any of my other stories. It turns out that the past two years or so have kept me busier than I thought.


End file.
